|  CALK  ORNIA 

W      S  •       ...iEGO 


Publisher's  Notice. 


Mr.  Clark  requests  that  this  book  be  sold  at  the 
advertised  price,  one  dollar  and  a  half. 

The  following  errata  may  be  noted : 
P.  36,  1.  8,  Alcotts  should  read  Alcotts'. 
P.  38,  1.  6,  Orasmus  should  read  Orsamus. 
P.  41,  1.  9,  from  bottom,  grape[e~\s  should  read  grap[e~]s. 


The  Alcotts  in  Harvard 


THE  ALCOTTS 
IN  HARVARD 


BY 

ANNIE  M.  L.  CLARK 


LANCASTER,  MASSACHUSETTS,  U.  S.  A. 

J.  C.  L.  CLARK 

1902 


Copyright,  1902, 
By  ANNIE  M.  L.  CLARK 


L.  M.  A 


NOTE 

A  part  of  these  reminiscences  having  already  appeared 
in  the  New  England  Magazine,  I  beg  to  thank  the  pub 
lishers  of  that  periodical  for  leave  to  reprint.  To  the 
following  persons  also  I  am  cordially  grateful  for  informa 
tion  and  illustrative  matter:  MRS  FRANKLIN  WYMAN, 
of  Worcester;  DR.  THOMAS  PALMER,  of  Fitchburg;  DR. 
W.  O.  JOHNSON,  of  Clinton;  and  my  son,  MR.  J.  C.  L. 
CLARK.  The  books  by  which  I  have  been  chiefly  aided 
are  the  Life  of  Alcott  by  Messrs.  Sanborn  and  Harris, 
Mrs.  Cheney's  Biography  of  Miss  Alcott,  and  L.  M. 
A.'s  own  "Transcendental  Wild  Oats." 

A.  M.  L.  C. 

LANCASTER,  Spring,  1902. 


The  Alcotts  in  Harvard 


ARLY  in  the  summer  of  1843,  curios 
ity  and  interest  were  aroused  in  the 
minds  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  quiet  town 
of  Harvard,  Massachusetts,  by  the  advent 
among  them  of  a  small  colony  of  that  class 
of  high  thinkers  who  had  received  the  name 
of  Transcendentalists.  The  little  colony, 
sixteen  in  all,  comprised  Bronson  Alcott 
and  nine  other  men,  Mrs.  Alcott, rMiss  Anna 
Page,  and  the  four  Alcott  children.  This 
somewhat  incongruous  family  located  itself 
on  a  picturesque  sidehill  farm  in  the  school 
district  of  Harvard  known  as  Still  River 
North,  but  often  referred  to  by  the  less 
elegant  name  of  Hog  Street. 

The  founders  of  this  little  community 
were  actuated  by  high  and  noble  motives; 
and  the  story  of  their  plans  and  failures 


cannot  but  be  of  interest  to  thoughtful 
minds.  It  would  be  pertinent  to  trace  the 
mental  and  moral  training  and  the  early 
homes  and  environments  of  the  various 
members;  but,  as  that  is  not  possible,  we 
will,  instead,  turn  a  backward  glance  at  the 
parentage  and  early  lives  of  those  who  were 
the  soul  and  centre  of  the  enterprise. 

Amos  Bronson  Alcott  was  born  in  Wol- 
cott,  Connecticut,  29  November,  1799,  at  the 
foot  of  Spindle  Hill.  The  family  name  was 
originally  Alcocke,  and  is  often  found  in 
English  history.  Mention  is  made  that 
about  1616  a  coat -of -arms  was  granted  to 
Thomas  Alcocke,  the  device  being  three 
cocks,  emblematic  of  watchfulness,  with 
the  appropriate  motto,  Semper  vigilans.  One 
writer  says :  "Mr.  Alcott's  ancestors  on  both 
sides  had  been  substantial  people  of  respect  - 
able  position  in  England,  and  were  con 
nected  with  the  founders  and  governors  of 
the  chief  New  England  colonies." 

Brought  up  on  a  farm,  Alcott  has  given 
the  story  of  his  quaint,  rustic  life  in  the 
simple  verse  of  "New  Connecticut,"  while 
Louisa  has  reproduced  it  in  "Eli's  Educa- 


tion,"  one  of  her  Spinning  Wheel  Stories, 
which  is  said  to  be  a  very  true  picture  of 
her  father's  early  days.  His  mother  was  a 
gentle,  refined  woman,  who  had  strong  faith 
in  her  boy,  and  lived  to  see  him  the  accom 
plished  scholar  he  had  vowed  in  boyhood  to 
become.  In  Louisa  Alcott's  journal  occurs 
this  mention  of  her  grandmother : 

"Grandma  Alcott  came  to  visit  us.  A 
sweet  old  lady.  I  am  glad  to  know  her  and 
see  where  Father  got  his  nature.  As  we 
sat  talking  over  Father's  boyhood,  I  never 
realised  so  plainly  before  how  much  he  has 
done  for  himself.  His  early  life  sounded 
like  a  pretty,  old  romance,  and  Mother 
added  the  love  passages." 

From  her  conversations  with  her  grand  - 
mother,  Miss  Alcott  got,  as  she  says,  "a  hint 
for  a  story ; ' '  and  this  story  was  to  be  called 
"The  Cost  of  an  Idea."  It  was  to  relate 
"the  trials  and  triumphs  of  the  Pathetic 
Family,"  with  chapters  entitled,  "Spindle 
Hill,"'  "Temple  School,"  "Fruitlands," 
"Boston,"  and  "Concord."  I  believe  the 
fear  of  seeming  to  present  her  father's 
characteristics  to  ridicule  kept  her  from 


fulfilling  this  purpose;  at  least,  only  the 
Fruitlands  chapter — "Transcendental  Wild 
Oats" — ever  saw  the  light. 

Mrs.  Alcott — Abba  May — was  the  twelfth 
and  youngest  child  of  Colonel  Joseph  May, 
of  Boston,  her  mother  being  Dorothy 
Sewall.  Miss  May  was  visiting  her  brother, 
the  Rev.  Samuel  J.  May,  minister  over  a 
Unitarian  church  in  Brooklyn,  Connecticut, 
when  she  met  her  future  husband.  They 
were  married  by  her  brother  23  May,  1830, 
in  King's  Chapel,  where  the  bride  had  been 
baptised  in  infancy.  It  is  said  that  Mrs. 
May  was  a  woman  of  rare  and  charming 
character,  and  any  one  who  ever  saw  Mrs. 
Alcott  can  readily  believe  what  she  herself 
wrote  of  her  mother:  "She  never  said  great 
things,  but  did  ten  thousand  generous 
ones." 

Alcott  was  farmer  boy,  peddler,  and 
teacher  by  turns.  In  1832  he  was  teaching 
in  Grermantown,  Pennsylvania,  where  on 
his  thirty -third  birthday  was  born  his  sec 
ond  daughter,  Louisa,  whose  feet  were  to 
mount  the  ladder  of  fame  higher  than  his 
own . 


Louisa  Alcott's  character,  which  united 
many  of  the  traits  of  both  parents,  may,  I 
think,  be  aptly  described  in  this  quatrain  of 
the  great  Groethe : 

"Vom  Vater  hub'  ich  die  Statur, 

Des  Lebens  ernstes  f  iihren ; 
Vom  Mutterchen  die  Frohnatur, 
Die  Lust  zu  fabulieren." 

From  Grermantown  to  Boston  arid  the 
famous  Temple  School;  and  here  Alcott 
was  gradually  formulating  the  plan  which 
led  to  the  settlement  of  Fruitlands,  and  also 
strenously  carrying  out  his  conviction  that 
the  simplest  food  was  alone  conducive  to 
high  and  lofty  thinking  and  living.  We 
are  told  that  the  children  grew  very  tired  of 
rice  without  sugar,  and  Graham  meal  with 
out  either  butter  or  molasses. 

He  was,  this  high  priest  of  high  ideas, 
very  critical  in  religious  matters,  writing 
thus:  UI  am  dissatisfied  with  the  general 
preaching  of  every  sect  and  with  the  indi 
viduals  of  any  sect."  Some  one  has  said 
that  he  seemed  to  have  adopted  what  Sir 
William  Davenant  called  an  "ingenuous 
Quakerism."  Soon  the  title  of  philosopher 

13 


was  added  to  that  of  teacher;  and  he  be 
came  known  as  a  bright  and  shining  light 
among  the  visionary  but  earnest  company 
of  Transcendentalists. 

Going  to  England,  he  found  there  con 
genial  spirits,  and  in  October,  1842,  he  came 
home,  accompanied  by  three  of  these  new 
friends,  Charles  Lane  and  his  son,  William, 
and  Henry  C.  Wright. 

Miss  Alcott,  in  "Transcendental  Wild- 
Oats,"  which  she  further  entitles  a  chapter 
from  an  unwritten  romance,  writes  as 
follows : 

"On  the  first  day  of  June,  1843,  a  large 
wagon,  drawn  by  a  small  horse  and  con 
taining  a  motley  load,  went  lumbering  over 
certain  New  England  hills,  with  the  pleasing 
accompaniments  of  wind,  rain  and  hail.  A 
serene  man  with  a  serene  child  upon  his 
knee  was  driving,  or  rather  being  driven, 
for  the  small  horse  had  it  all  his  own  way. 
Behind  a  small  boy,  embracing  a  bust  of 
Socrates,  was  an  energetic  looking  woman, 
with  a  benevolent  brow,  satirical  mouth  and 
eyes  full  of  hope  and  courage.  A  baby 
reposed  upon  her  lap,  a  mirror  leaned 

14 


against  her  knee,  a  h:tsk<-i  uf  provisions 
danced  about  her  fe«ji,;iu.i  -he  struggled 
with  a  iJiruv.  unruly  ui!f<>;.  with  which 
sjif  ?•!».<!  i.o  cover  every  t;i;t  herself. 

»*'tran  to  fall,  and  '-ain  came 

iti  a  despondent  -lri/7?*  .  Ut?  t};(>  cajm 
Hu-n  ^a?;ed  as  tranquillv  int..  ;•-*  f<,.g  as  if 
lu-  r>f-htrld  a  radiant  bow  of  r=  a-  s.jian- 
iiing  th(- gray  sky."  Tim.**  c»an-j  :J  -.  ?iew 
Adam  and  Eve  into  their  >jof»^  r  K«l,-»>. 

One  of  the  band  who  wep-  R  t-  make 
4 'the  wilderness  blossom  lik*  :!u-  n>se" 
wrote  thus  of  Fruit  lands.  (lie 

name  they  decided  to  give  :h'-n  .  h'-.u-H/: 
''It  is  very  remotely  s»it*i«t*-  withouf  a 
road,  but  snrrouiKled  by  it  *••  rt.fii»?ui  jjn^n 
Lan<lscaj)e  of  fields  and  wot*K.  .Nothing 
could  have  been  more  roinauti*'  than  th*' 
site  ch<»8en--a  »iel<I  of  about  a  innulred  acres 
on  a  Ivjii  [*',  sloping  to  the  river,  with  the 
most  lovely  views  of  Waehusett  and  Monad - 
iiock  to  th*'  west,  the  intervening  stretches 
dotted  with  towns  and  villages,  while  in  the 
background  rose 
of  Prospect  IJ 


JOT 


ON  THE  BOAD  TO  PBOSPECT  HILL. 
From  a  photograph  by  J.  C.  L.  Clark. 


against  her  knee,  a  basket  of  provisions 
danced  about  her  feet,  and  she  struggled 
with  a  large,  unruly  umbrella,  with  which 
she  tried  to  cover  every  one  but  herself. 
Twilight  began  to  fall,  and  the  rain  came 
down  in  a  despondent  drizzle,  but  the  calm 
man  gazed  as  tranquilly  into  the  fog  as  if 
he  beheld  a  radiant  bow  of  promise  span 
ning  the  gray  sky."  Thus  came  this  new 
Adam  and  Eve  into  their  hoped  for  Eden. 

One  of  the  band  who  were  here  to  make 
"the  wilderness  blossom  like  the  rose" 
wrote  thus  of  Fruitlands,  which  was  the 
name  they  decided  to  give  their  new  home : 
"It  is  very  remotely  situated,  without  a 
road,  but  surrounded  by  a  beautiful  green 
landscape  of  fields  and  woods."  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  romantic  than  the 
site  chosen — a  field  of  about  a  hundred  acres 
on  a  hillside,  sloping  to  the  river,  with  the 
most  lovely  views  of  Wachusett  and  Monad - 
nock  to  the  west,  the  intervening  stretches 
dotted  with  towns  and  villages,  while  in  the 
background  rose  the  tree -crowned  summit 
of  Prospect  Hill. 

Here  gathered  the  little  band,  and  began 

15 


the  work  of  forming  "a  family  in  harmony 
with  the  primitive  instincts  of  man."  No 
meat  was  to  be  eaten,  nor  were  fish,  butter, 
cheese,  eggs,  or  milk  allowed — nothing  that 
in  the  taking  would  cause  pain  or  seem  like 
robbing  any  animal ;  besides,  animal  food, 
if  only  approximately  animal,  as  milk  and 
butter,  would  corrupt  the  body  and  through 
that  the  soul!  Tea,  coffee,  molasses,  and 
rice,  were  forbidden  for  two  reasons — be 
cause  they  were  in  part  foreign  luxuries, 
and  in  part  the  product  of  slave  labour. 
Water  alone  for  drink,  fruit  in  plenty,  and 
some  vegetables,  were  permitted;  but  in 
these  last  a  distinction  was  made  between 
those  which  grow  in  the  air  and  those 
which  grow  downward,  like  potatoes  and 
others  which  form  underground .  The  latter 
were  less  suited  for  what  these  visionaries 
termed  a  "chaste  supply"  for  their  bodily 
needs.  Louisa  Alcott  says  that  ten  ancient 
apple  trees  were  all  the  "chaste  supply" 
the  place  afforded.  Salt  was  another  article 
forbidden,  it  is  hard  to  see  why.  Maple 
syrup  and  sugar  were  to  be  abundant  in 
time,  and  bayberry  tallow  was  to  furnish 

1C 


ORCHARD  AT  "  FRUITLANDS." 
From  a  photograph  by  J.  C.  L.  Clark. 


the  work  of  forming  %ia  family  in  harmony 
with  the  primitive  instincts  of  man.'  No 
meat  was  to  be  eaten,  nor  were  fish,  butter, 
cheese,  eggs,  or  miJk  allowed — nothing  that, 
in  the  taking  would  <?<iuse  pain  or  seem  like 
robbing  any  animal :  besides,  animal  food, 
it'  only  approximately  animal,  as  milk  and 
butter,  would  corrupt  the  body  and  through 
that  the  soul!  Tea.  coffee,  molasses,  and 
rice,  were  forbidden  for  two  reasons — be 
cause  they  were  in  part  foreign  luxuries, 
and  in  part  the  product  of  slave  labour. 
Water  alone  for  drink,  fruit  hi  plenty,  and 
some  vegetables,  were  permitted;  but-  in 
these  last  a  distinction  was  made  between 
those  which  grow  in  the  air  and  those 
which  grow  downward,  like  potatoes  and 
others  w  hich  form  underground .  The  latter 
were  less  suited  for  what  these  visionaries 
termed  a  u  chaste  supply"  for  their  bodily 
'ie«*(ls.  Louisa  Alcott  says  that  ten  ancient 
*P!>i.e  trees  were  all  the  "chaste  supply'1 
•Jfe**?  piace  afforded.  Salt  was  another  article 
'  rbMden.  it  is  hard  to  see  why.  Maple 

-.gkrtiA aTitfa-s "  TA<  (tai&o W' >r''li •  * «*••' } 

i-UliO  i J  .0  .1  Vf  dqjnaoJBdq  WW3T  I 


light,  when  anything  but  the  inner  light 
was  required.  All  this  was  to  elevate  and 
purify  the  body  and  bring  about  a  state  of 
perfection  in  body,  mind,  and  soul. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  principles 
upon  which  their  habits  of  life  were  to  rest : 
"We  must  ignore  laws  which  ignore  holi 
ness;  our  trust  is  in  purity;  with  pure 
beings  will  come  pure  habits ;  a  better  being 
shall  be  built  up  from  the  orchard  and  the 
garden ;  the  outward  form  shall  beam  with 
soul."  "From  the  fountain  we  will  slake 
our  thirst,  and  our  appetite  shall  find  sup 
ply  in  the  delicious  abundance  which  Po  - 
mona  offers.  Flesh  and  blood  we  will 
reject  as  the  accursed  thing.  A  pure  mind 
has  no  faith  in  them." 

Certain  ideas  called  "no  government 
theories"  held  sway  in  Alcott's  breast, 
which  just  before  his  going  to  Harvard  led 
to  his  arrest  by  the  deputy  sheriff,  Sam  Sta 
ples,  for  refusing  to  pay  his  taxes,  on  the 
ground  that  he  would  "not  support  a 
government  so  false  to  the  law  of  love." 
And  here  I  must  digress  to  tell  what 
Thoreau  calls  a  good  anecdote.  Miss  Helen 

17 


Thoreau  asked  Sheriff  Staples  what  he 
thought  Mr.  Alcott's  idea  was;  and  he 
answered,  with  hearty  if  inelegant  empha 
sis,  "I  vum,  I  "believe  it  was  nothing  but 
principle,  for  I  never  heard  a  man  talk  hon- 
ester."  Even  those  who  most  thoroughly 
disbelieved  in  the  practicability  of  the  re  - 
former's  views  were  ready  to  concede  his 
entire  honesty  of  purpose.  Emerson  called 
Alcott  "a  nineteenth  century  Simon  Styl- 
ites." 

With  these  qualities,  he  set  out  for  Fruit  - 
lands — the  name,  like  everything  else  fine 
about  these  plans,  but  a  prophecy.  The  pro 
jects  of  these  people  were,  as  Emerson  was 
fond  of  describing  them,  "without  feet  or 
hands."  Ordinary  farming  was  not  part  of 
their  plan  of  life .  No  ploughs  were  to  be  used 
because  they  would  require  the  aid  of  cattle ; 
the  spade  and  the  pruning -knife  were  to  be 
all-sufficient.  None  of  the  company  was 
used  to  the  labour  required,  and  of  course 
blistered  hands  and  intense  weariness  were 
common ;  but  the  All -soul  disciples  struggled 
bravely  on  for  a  few  months,  yielding  at  last 
so  far  to  the  inevitable  as  to  allow  a  yoke  of 

18 


cattle  to  be  used  in  performing  the  hardest 
tasks.  In  the  half  droll,  half  pathetic  pages 
of  "Transcendental  Wild  Oats, ' '  it  is  asserted 
that  one  of  the  supposititious  oxen  was  a  cow, 
and  that  the  owner  used  to  take  long 
draughts  at  the  milking  pail  in  the  privacy 
of  the  barn.  The  truth  is  that  Joseph  Pal 
mer,  a  member  of  the  community,  of  whom 
I  shall  have  something  to  tell  later,  brought 
from  his  home  in  Leominster  a  cow  and  a 
bull,  which  he  had  trained  to  work  together. 
He  was  the  original  of  Moses  White  in  Miss 
Alcott's  story,  in  which,  with  a  decorous 
alteration,  this  incident  figures.  It  is  said 
that  some  others  of  the  family  were  glad  to 
share  the  less  frugal  meals  of  kindly  neigh 
bours,  though  this  was  probably  never  true 
of  Alcott. 

Their  dress  was  another  matter  held  of 
great  importance.  Cotton  was  largely  the 
product  of  slave  labour,  and  wool  came  from 
robbing  the  sheep,  so  linen  wTas  as  far  as 
possible  to  form  the  material  of  their  gar 
ments.  One  cannot  help  but  wonder  how 
men  with  any  common  sense  could  dream 
of  living  through  our  New  England  year 


clad  in  linen.  While  summer  and  summer 
warmth  lasted,  many  deprivations  could  be 
overlooked,  though  even  then  Mrs.  Alcott's 
shoulders  must  have  found  heavy  burdens 
for  their  upholding.  The  rest  might  be 
seeking  the  All -soul;  but  to  her  fell  the 
task,  often  almost  beyond  her  powers,  of 
providing  for  their  physical  needs,  which 
even  with  their  high  philosophy  could  not 
be  wholly  overlooked. 

The  education  of  the  children  was  not 
neglected.  Miss  Page  gave  them  music  les 
sons  ;  and  Louisa  frankly  declares  she  hated 
the  lady,  she  was  "so  fussy."  From  their 
father  and  Mr.  Lane  they  had  instruction 
in  various  branches.  Louisa  in  her  diary 
tells  of  things  pleasant  and  the  reverse ;  how 
she  tried  to  be  good,  and  how  she  failed ;  of 
a  visit  from  Parker  Pillsbury,  and  his  talk 
about  the  poor  slaves ;  of  their  dinners  of 
bread  and  fruit;  how  they  played  in  the 
woods  and  were  fairies,  and  how  she  "flied" 
the  highest  of  all;  and  of  a  corn -husking  in 
the  barn,  with  the  somewhat  unusual  inci 
dent,  if  one  may  judge  by  its  being  recorded, 
that  they  had  lamps.  Indeed,  a  kinswoman 

20 


VIEW  FROM  PROSPECT  HILL. 
From  a  photograph  by  F.  T.  Harvey. 


Had  in  linen.  While  summer  ami  summer 
warmth  lasted,  marry  deprivations  could  be 
overlooked,  though  even  th^n  Mrs.  Alcutt's 
shoulders  must  have  found  heavy  burdens 
for  their  upholding.  The  rest  might  be 
seeking  the  All -soul;  but  to  her  fell  the 
task,  often  almost  beyond  her  powers,  of 
providing  for  their  physical  needs,  whieh 
even  with  their  high  philosophy  could  u«  >t 
he  wholly  overlooked. 

The  education  of  the  children  was  not 
neglected.  Miss  Page  gave  them  music  les 
sons  ;  and  Louisa  frankly  declares  she  hated 
the  lady,  she  was  klso  fussy/'  From  their 
father  and  Mr.  Lane  they  had  instruction 
in  various  branches.  Louisa  in  her  diary 
tells  of  things  pleasant  and  the  reverse ;  how 
she  tried  to  be  good,  and  how  she  failed ;  of 
a  visit  from  Parker  Pillsbury.  arid  his  talk 
about  the  poor  slaves ;  of  their  dinners  of 
"bread  and  fruit:  how  they  played  in  the 
woods  and  were  fairies,  and  how  she  4'flied" 
the  highest  of  all ;  and  of  a  corn-husking  in 
«*if  barn,  with  the  somewhat  unusual  iiiCi- 

if  one  may  judge  bv  its  being  recorded, 
Toataoa?  MPSI  waiv, 


of  Mrs.  Alcott's  tells  me  that  her  occasional 
insistence  on  ordinary  means  of  lighting 
(bayberry  tallow  not  being  as  yet  available) 
called  forth  much  reproachful  opposition. 
Louisa  writes  of  a  visit  from  Professor  Wil 
liam  Russell,  and  a  Sunday's  tramp  in  the 
woods  for  moss  to  adorn  a  bower  their 
father  was  making,  in  which  Mr.  Emerson 
was  to  be  honoured.  Louisa  wrote  little 
poems  and  read  and  listened  to  various 
books.  Mrs.  Child's  "Philothea"  was  a 
great  favourite  with  the  little  girls,  so  much 
so  that  they  made  a  dramatic  version 
of  it,  which  they  acted  under  the  trees. 
That  the  father  encouraged  his  children  in 
their  innocent  gayety  is  shown  by  the  f  am  - 
ily  habit  of  celebrating  birthdays.  Thus, 
when  May  was  three  years  old,  28  July  of 
the  summer  spent  at  Fruitlands,  the  whole 
family  met  under  the  trees  of  a  neighbouring 
grove,  and,  crowning  the  little  girl  with 
flowers,  Mr.  Alcott  read  an  ode  celebrating 
the  day  in  the  child's  honour,  and  as  the 
dawn  of  their  opening  paradise. 

Emerson's  ideas  had  been  an  incentive 
in  the  establishment  of  the  community ;  but 

21 


much  as  he  sympathised  with  the  pure 
idealism  of  their  plans,  he  never  seemed  to 
believe  in  their  practical  value,  and,  again, 
called  Alcott  "a  tedious  archangel,"  and 
said  that  Alcott  and  Lane  were  "always 
feeling  of  their  shoulders  to  see  if  their 
wings  were  sprouting."  Hawthorne  wrote 
of  Alcott:  "One  might  readily  conceive  his 
Orphic  sayings  to  well  up  from  a  fountain 
in  his  breast  which  communicated  with  the 
infinite  Abyss  of  thought."  His  English 
friend,  Mr.  Wright,  soon  pronounced  him 
impractical.  Thoreau,  with  many  kindred 
beliefs,  was  sometimes  vexed  with  him ;  and 
Lowell,  as  if  in  prophecy,  wrote : 

"Our  nipping  climate  hardly  suits 
The  ripening  of  ideal  fruits, 
His  theories  vanquish  us  all  summer, 
But  winter  makes  him  dumb  and  dumber." 

Some  of  the  members  of  the  family  went 
visiting  at  Brook  Farm,  and  came  home 
shocked  at  the  luxury  and  epicureanism 
they  found.  Young  Isaac  Hecker  came 
to  Fruitlands  from  the  larger  community, 
as  he  wished  to  lead  a  more  self-denying 
life.  After  a  stay  of  two  weeks,  however. 


he  departed,  still  unsatisfied,  to  enter  at 
last  the  Catholic  priesthood.*  People  of 
strange  dress  and  stranger  ideas  came  and 
went,  largely  drones  in  the  world's  work 
aday  hive;  and  the  Newness,  the  All- 
soul,  must  have  been  written  in  other 
words  for  overworked,  tired  Mrs.  Alcott. 
Alcott  and  Lane  went  to  New  York  to  hold  a 
discussion  withW.H.  Channing.  LydiaMa- 
ria  Child,  who  was  a  dear  personal  friend  of 
the  Alcotts,  gives  a  somewhat  amusing  ac 
count  of  the  matter.  Mr.  Child  and  John 
Hopper  had  been  to  hear  the  discussion,  and 
Mrs.  Child  asked  what  had  "been  talked 
about.  Mr.  Child  said :  "Mr.  Lane  divided 
man  into  three  states,  the  disconcious,  the 
conscious,  and  the  unconscious ;  thediscon- 
scious  is  the  state  of  a  pig,  the  conscious  is 
the  baptism  by  water,  and  the  unconscious 
is  the  baptism  by  fire.  And  as  for  myself," 
he  added,  "when  I  had  heard  them  talk  for 

*  In  August,  1844,  Father  Hecker,  then  a  Catholic  convert, 
visited  Harvard  with  Emerson,  and  seems  to  have  called  on 
Alcott,  at  Still  River,  and  on  Charles  Lane,  who  was  probably 
still  with  the  Harvard  Shakers.  For  Lane's  unselfishness  and 
singleness  of  character  Hecker  always  retained  admiration.  His 
comments  on  Alcott,  made  late  in  life  to  his  biographer,  Father 
Elliott,  are  more  amusing  than  complimentary. 

2:? 


a  few  moments,  I  didn't  know  whether  I 
had  any  mind  or  not."  Hopper  declared 
that  while  Channing  thought  there  was 
some  connection  between  mind  and  body, 
Alcott  and  Lane  seemed  to  think  the  body 
a  sham. 

In  Louisa's  diary  we  find  what  she  calls 
a  "sample  of  the  vegetable  wafers  we  used 
at  Fruitlands:" 

"Vegetable  diet  and  sweet  repose;  ani 
mal  food  and  nightmare." 

"Apollo  eats  no  flesh  and  has  no  beard; 
his  voice  is  melody  itself." 

"Pluck  your  body  from  the  orchard,  do 
not   snatch  it  from,  the  shambles." 
These  are  a  few  of  the  oracular  instructions 
the  children  received  from  the  philosophers. 

As  cool  weather  came  on,  times  grew 
harder.  We  find  in  Louisa's  diary,  under 
one  date :  "More  people  coming  to  live  with 
us;  I  wish  we  could  be  together,  and  no 
one  else.  I  don't  see  who  is  to  feed  and 
clothe  us  all,  when  we  are  so  poor  now.  I 
was  very  dismal,  and  then  went  out  to  walk, 
and  made  a  poem."  This  poem  is  entitled 
"Despondency;"  it  is  interesting,  denoting, 

24 


as  it  does,  the  loving  trust  which  showed 
itself  in  the  young  heart  thus  early  learning 
of  life's  burdens,  a  trust  which  is  again 
shown  in  the  record,  of  a  little  later  date, 
when  she  tells  of  going  under  the  forest  trees 
and  coming  out  into  the  sunshine,  and  of  the 
strange  and  solemn  feeling  that  came  over 
her — that  she,  as  she  expresses  it,  "felt  Grod 
as  never  before,  and  prayed  that  she  might 
keep  that  happy  sense  of  nearness  all  her 
life . ' '  This  is  the  poem .  Surely  these  lines 
are  good  for  a  girl  not  quite  eleven  years 
old: 

''Silent  and  sad 

When  all  is  glad 
And  the  earth  is  dressed  in  flowers ; 

When  the  gay  birds  sing 

Till  the  forests  ring 
As  they  rest  in  woodland  bowers. 

"Oh,  why  these  tears 

And  these  idle  fears 
For  what  may  come  to-morrow? 

The  birds  find  food 

From  God  so  good, 
And  the  flowers  know  no  sorrow. 

"If  He  clothes  these, 

And  the  leafy  trees, 
Will  He  not  cherish  thee? 

Why  doubt  His  care? 

It  is  everywhere, 
Though  the  way  we  may  not  see. 

25 


"Then  why  be  sad 

When  all  is  glad 
And  the  world  is  full  of  flowers? 

With  the  gay  birds  sing, 

Make  life  all  spring, 
And  smile  through  the  darkest  hours." 

One  after  another  those  who  had  com 
posed  the  family  departed,  Lane  and  his  son 
going  to  the  Shakers  for  a  while,  and  con 
siderably  later  returning  to  England.  Alcott 
also,  I  believe,  was  inclined  to  join  the  fol 
lowers  of  Mother  Ann  Lee ;  but  to  this  his 
wife  utterly  refused  to  agree .  An  old  neigh  - 
bour  once  told  me  that  Mrs.  Alcott  said  her 
hope  for  her  daughters  was  that  they  should 
become  wives  and  mothers ;  and  life  among 
the  Shakers  was  apparently  not  likely  to 
bring  about  that  happy  result.  Alcott  grew 
more  and  more  discouraged.  As  his  daugh 
ter  says,  he  lay  down  upon  his  bed  and 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  refusing  food 
and  drink,  and  there  waited  for  death  to 
end  the  struggle.  For  a  while  tears  and 
pleading  from  the  faithful  wife  were  of  no 
avail,  and  she  could  only  cling  to  the  words 
which  expressed  the  belief  of  her  devout  but 
incapable  husband,  "The  Lord  will  pro- 

26 


vide."  It  would  seem  that  at  last  some 
kind  angel  brought  the  stricken  man  to  see 
the  selfishness  of  yielding  to  despair,  when 
his  wife  and  children  were  alike  suffering 
and  it  was  his  duty  to  care  for  them.  Some 
arrangements  were  made;  and  one  cold 
December  day  the  little  family  left  Fruit  - 
lands — which  the  mother  suggested  might 
more  appropriately  have  been  called  "Apple 
Slump" — for  a  home  in  the  village  of  Still 
River,  in  a  part  of  the  house  known  as  the 
'  'Brick  Ends, ' '  then  owned  and  in  part  occu  - 
pied  by  J.  W.  Lovejoy.*  It  is  comforting  to 
recall  that,  although  Alcott,  brave  in  his 
convictions,  withstood  the  wintry  blasts  in 
his  customary  linen  leggings,  the  broad - 
brimmed  hats  and  linen  tunics  of  the  little 
girls  gave  way  to  warmer  garments  sent  by 
friends  and  relatives.  Still  more  delightful 
is  it  to  know  that  Mrs.  Alcott,  like  many 
another  weary  woman,  found  comfort  in 
"cups  that  cheer  but  not  inebriate,"  and 
now  and  then  went  to  a  sympathetic  neigh 
bour's  to  make  herself  a  cup  of  tea. 

*  It  is  now  the  home  of  Mr.  Harvey  Keyes.     Its  brick  ends 
on  the  north  and  south  were  long  ago  replaced  by  wood. 

27 


Of  course  queer  stories  had  come  to  the 
villagers  regarding  the  Transcendentalists ; 
so  when  one  Sunday  a  long-haired  man 
walked  into  the  Still  River  (Baptist)  church, 
interrupting  the  service  to  proclaim  himself 
the  Angel  Grabriel,  I  think  the  incident 
seemed,  though  unfortunate,  not  altogether 
out  of  character.  Gabriel,  however,  may 
have  made  Fruitlands  his  headquarters  af 
ter  the  place  had  passed  into  the  hands  of 
Joseph  Palmer,  who,  because  of  his  im 
mense  beard,  when  full  beards  were  very 
rarely  seen,  was  known  as  the  "Old  Jew." 

Palmer's  maternal  grandfather  was  Cap 
tain  Noah  Wiswall,  of  Newton.  His  son 
and  daughter  having  married  children  of  a 
Mr.  Palmer,  said  to  have  been  a  school 
master,  Wiswall  presented  the  two  young 
couples  with  adjoining  farms  in  the  unin 
corporated  tract  called  Not  own.  These  two 
farms  were  part  of  a  military  grant  inherited 
by  Captain  Wiswall.  The  daughter's  por 
tion  was  later  joined  to  Leoniinster.  She 
had  fourteen  children,  of  whom  Joseph  was 
the  youngest.  To  him  was  left  the  Leoniin 
ster  farm,  and  from  him  it  descended  to  his 

28 


>TT     -p  AT  1l«rt»  r>       TT^rx  •»•"•»> 

From  a  photograph  by  J.  C.  L.  Clark. 


Of  eours<-  queer  stories  had  come  to  the 
villagers  regarding  the  Transeendentatists ; 
HO  when  one  Sunday  a  long-haired  man 
walked  into  the  Still  River  (Baptist)  church, 
interrupting  the  service  to  proclaim  himself 
the  Angel  Gabriel.  I  think  the  incident 
seemed,  though  unfortunate,  not  altogether 
out  of  character.  Gabriel,  however,  may 
have  made  Fruitlands  his  headquarters  af 
ter  the  place  had  passed  into  the  hands  of 
Joseph  Palmer,  who.  because  of  his  im 
mense  beard,  when  fuii  beards  were  very 
rarely  seem,  was  known  as  the  "Old  Jew," 
Palmer's  maternal  grandfather  was  Cap 
tain  Noah  Wiswall,  of  Newton.  His  son 
and  daughter  having  married  children  of  a 
Mr.  Palmer,  said  to  have  been  a  school 
master,  Wiswall  presented  the  two  young 
couples  with  adjoining  farms  in  the  unin 
corporated  tract  called  Notown.  These  two 

forms  were  part  <  >f  a  military  grant  inherited 
•r  Captain  Wiswall.     The  daughter's  por- 

!•••-!  wa»s  later  joim/d  to  Leomiiister.     She 
fourteen  children,  «>f  whom  Joseph  was 


son,  Dr.  Thomas  Palmer,  a  noted  dentist  of 
Fitchburg,  now  over  eighty  years  old.  The 
cottage  built  in  the  eighteenth  century  by 
Dr.  Palmer's  grandfather  is  yet  standing 
near  the  doctor's  modern  summer  residence. 
Joseph  married  Nancy  Thompson,  of  Ster 
ling,  whose  father,  Benjamin  Thompson, 
was  a  cousin  of  Benjamin  Thompson,  Count 
Bumford,  originally  of  Woburn. 

When  the  community  was  started,  the 
farm  in  Harvard,  with  its  buildings,  was 
purchased  of  one  Maverick  Wyman.  The 
money  for  the  land  was  contributed  chiefly 
by  Charles  Lane.  The  buildings  were 
bought  by  Joseph  Palmer,  who  was  in  sym 
pathy  with  the  Transcendentalists  and  glad 
to  aid  in  the  scheme. 

After  the  collapse  of  the  community,  the 
trusteeship  of  the  land,  which  had  been  held 
for  Charles  Lane  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  J. 
May,  Mrs.  Alcott's  brother,  was  transferred 
to  K.  W.  Emerson  (March,  1845) .  In  Aug 
ust,  1846,  the  land  was  deeded  by  Emerson, 
as  trustee,  to  Palmer,  "in  consideration  of 
seventeen  hundred  dollars,"  although  the 
purchase  money  was  in  great  part  secured 

20 


to  Lane  by  mortgage.  The  land  carried 
also  a  mortgage  of  three  hundred  dollars, 
held  by  one  Godfrey  Sparrow.  By  1852  the 
place  was  cleared  of  all  incuinbrances  by 
Palmer's  son,  Dr.  Thomas  Palmer.  It  was 
the  home  of  the  "Old  Jew"  and  of  a  daugh 
ter,  Mrs.  Holman,  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
Since  Mrs.  Holman 's  death,  the  property 
has  been  sold  by  her  sons  to  Mr.  Abel  Wil- 
lard,  whose  farm  it  adjoined.  Mr.  Palmer 
is  buried  in  the  large  cemetery  at  Leomin- 
ster,  his  monument  bearing  his  portrait  in 
relief,  beneath  which  are  the  words :  "Per 
secuted  for  wearing  the  beard." 

With  the  spring  the  Still  River  little 
folks  found  their  new  neighbours  a  welcome 
accession.  A  May  party,  with  queen  and 
maypole,  was,  I  think,  an  idea  of  the  young 
Alcotts,  whose  knowledge  of  historic  cus 
toms  was  greater  than  that  possessed  by  the 
rest  of  us.  A  recent  writer  has  called  them 
"sad -faced  children."  That  is  a  great  mis 
take.  Whatever  they  may  have  lacked  in 
everyday  comforts,  they  never  could  have 
been  rightly  described  by  such  a  term.  As 
sure  as  the  sun  shone  and  skies  were  blue, 

30 


Page,  reduced,  of  mortgage,  showing  signatures  of  R.  W.  Emerson 
and  Charles  Lane,  and  mortgage  note  signed  by  Joseph  Palmer. 
By  courtesy  of  Dr.  Thomas  Palmer 


to  Lane  by  mortgage.  The  land  carried 
also  a  mortgage  of  three  hundred  dollars. 
held  by  one  Godfrey  Sparrow.  By  18512  the 
place  was  cleared  of  all  incunibrances  by 
Palmer's  son,  Dr.  Thomas  Palmer.  It  was 
the  home  of  the  "Old  Jew'1  and  of  a  daugh 
ter,  Mrs.  Holman,  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
Since  Mrs.  Holman  \s  death,  the  property 
has  been  sold  by  her  sons  to  Mr.  Abel  Wil- 
lard,  whose  fami  it  adjoined.  Mr.  Palmer 
is  buried  -in  the  large  cemetery  at  Leomin- 
ster,  his  monument  bearing  his  portrait  in 
relief,  beneath  which  are  the  words:  "Per 
secuted  for  wearing  the  besird.'1 

With  the  spring  the  Still  River  little 
folks  found  their  new  neighbours  a  welcome 
accession.  A  May  party,  with  queen  and 
maypole,  was,  I  think,  an  idea  of  the  young 
Alcotts,  whose  knowledge  of  historic  cus 
toms  was  greater  than  that  possessed  by  the 
rest  of  us.  A  recent  writer  has  called  them 
*  'sad  -  fa«'ed  children  ."'  That  is  a  great  mis  - 
take.  Whatever  they  may  have  lacked  in 

!  V  *  '• 


isnitel  aamorfT  .ta  lo,ve*J™oo  YQ        i  -. 

ure  as  the  sun  shone  ana  sloes  were  blue 


just  so  sure  was  the  afternoon  gathering  on 
the  grass  plot  in  front  of  the  "Brick  Ends," 
and  all  of  us  enjoyed  jumping  rope,  tossing 
ball  and  rolling  hoop  (so  it  seems  to  me 
now)  as  never  before.  Mrs.  Alcott  was 
like  the  guardian  angel  of  the  merry  com 
pany,  often  taking  her  seat  in  our  midst 
and  smiling  benignly  upon  our  gay  pranks. 

In  the  bright  days  of  summer  came  the 
birthday  of  Lizzie,  the  "Beth"  of  "Little 
Women ; ' '  and  never  shall  I  forget  the  proud 
gladness  which  filled  my  childish  heart  as  I 
went  to  the  party  given  in  honour  of  the  day. 
Mrs.  Love  joy's  kitchen  was  set  about  with 
evergreens,  and  otherwise  rendered  a  fitting 
stage  for  the  evening's  entertainment.  Her 
sitting-room  was  the  dress  circle,  while  the 
Alcott  sitting-room  was  ornamented  by  a 
small  tree,  from  the  boughs  of  which  hung 
gifts,  not  only  for  our  small  hostess,  but  for 
each  little  friend  present.  In  the  adjoining 
kitchen  a  table  was  abundantly  laden  with 
little  cakes  and  luscious  cherries,  with  a  big 
birthday  cake  in  the  centre. 

I  cannot  recall  all  the  dramatic  scenes 
enacted  that  evening,  to  me  so  memorable. 

31 


There  was  part  of  an  old  English  play  given 
by  the  older  of  the  happy  party,  members 
of  the  Alcott  and  the  neighbouring  Gardner 
families.  Then  there  were  songs ;  and  Anna 
Alcott  appeared  as  a  Scotch  laddie,  in  bonnet 
and  plaid.  What  she  recited  I  have  forgot 
ten,  though  I  remember  how  pretty  she 
looked.  But  Louisa  was  the  star  of  the 
evening.  Her  mother  had  stained  her  face, 
arms,  neck  and  ankles  to  the  ruddy  hue  of 
an  Indian  girl ;  her  dress  seemed  made  all 
of  feathers ;  feathers,  too,  crowned  her  head. 
Three  times  she  made  her  appearance. 
Once,  according  to  her  own  recollection, 
she  sang  the  then  popular  song, "Wild  roved 
an  Indian  girl,  bright  Alfarata."  Then 
erect,  solemn  as  her  merry  face  could  be 
come,  she  strode  forward,  bearing  a  large 
shield,  and  in  almost  blood-curdling  accents 
— as  an  old  schoolmate  describes  them — 
repeated  the  passage  from  Ossian  begin 
ning,  "0  thou  that  rollest  above,  round  as 
the  shield  of  my  fathers ; ' '  and  again,  in  ten  - 
derer,  softer  accents,  a  poem  from  one  of 
the  school  readers : 


"Geehale — An  Indian  Lament. 

•'The  blackbird  is  singing  on  Michigan's  shore 
As  sweetly  and  gaily  as  ever  before ; 
For  he  knows  to  his  mate  he,  at  pleasure,  can  hie, 
And  the  dear  little  brood  she  is  teaching  to  fly ; 
The  sun  looks  as  ruddy,  and  rises  as  bright, 
And  reflects  o'er  our  mountains  as  beamy  a  light 
As  it  ever  reflected,  or  ever  expressed, 
When  my  skies  were  the  bluest,  my  dreams  were  the  best. 
The  fox  and  the  panther,  both  beasts  of  the  night, 
Ketire  to  their  dens  on  the  gleaming  of  light, 
And  they  spring  with  a  free  and  a  sorrowless  track, 
For  they  know  that  their  mates  are  expecting  them  back. 
Each  bird  and  each  beast,  it  is  blessed  in  degree ; 
All  nature  is  cheerful,  all  happy,  but  me. 

'I  will  go  to  my  tent,  and  lie  down  in  despair ; 

I  will  paint  me  with  black,  and  will  sever  my  hair; 

I  will  sit  on  the  shore,  where  the  hurricane  blows, 

And  reveal  to  the  god  of  the  tempest  my  woes ; 

I  will  weep  for  a  season,  on  bitterness  fed, 

For  my  kindred  are  gone  to  the  hills  of  the  dead; 

But  they  died  not  by  hunger,  or  lingering  decay ; 

The  steel  of  the  white  man  hath  swept  them  away. 
'This  snake-skin,  that  once  I  so  sacredly  wore, 

I  will  toss,  with  disdain,  to  the  storm-beaten  shore; 

Its  charms  I  no  longer  obey,  or  invoke ; 

Its  spirit  hath  left  me,  its  spell  is  now  broke. 

I  will  raise  up  my  voice  to  the  source  of  the  light; 

I  will  dream  on  the  wings  of  the  bluebird  at  night ; 

I  will  speak  to  the  spirits  that  whisper  in  leaves, 

And  that  minister  balm  to  the  bosom  that  grieves; 

And  will  take  a  new  Mauito — such  as  shall  seem 

To  be  kind  and  propitious  in  every  dream. 
'Oh!  then  I  shall  banish  these  cankering  sighs, 

And  tears  shall  no  longer  gush  salt  from  my  eyes ; 

33 


I  shall  wash  from  my  face  every  cloud-coloured  stain, 

Red,  red  shall,  alone,  on  my  visage  remain ! 

I  will  dig  up  my  hatchet,  and  bend  my  oak  bow  ; 

By  night  and  by  day  I  will  follow  the  foe ; 

Nor  lakes  shall  impede  me,  nor  mountains,  nor  snows; — 

His  blood  can,  alone,  give  my  spirit  repose. 

"They  came  to  my  cabin,  when  heaven  was  black ; 
I  heard  not  their  coming,  I  knew  not  their  track ; 
But  I  saw,  by  the  light  of  their  blazing  fusees, 
They  were  people  engendered  beyond  the  big  seas  : 
My  wife,  and  my  children, — oh  spare  me  the  tale ! 
For  who  is  there  left  that  is  kin  to  GEEHALE?  " 

It  was  all  so  wonderful  to  us  little  ones ; 
and  I  well  remember  how  the  next  day  we 
looked  to  see  if  any  remnant  of  the  paint 
was  left  on  Louisa's  pretty  neck  and  arms. 

Miss  Louisa  Chase,  who  taught  the  vil 
lage  school  that  summer,  was  fairly  en 
shrined  in  the  hearts  of  her  pupils ;  and  the 
rides  and  picnics  in  which  Miss  Chase  and 
Mrs.  Alcott  watched  over,  and  shared  in, 
the  happiness  of  the  little  people  I  shall 
never  forget.  Hayr- carts  would  be  provided 
with  seats  and  trimmed  with  evergreen ;  and 
carefully  stowing  away  our  luncheon -bask 
ets,  we  one  by  one  would  take  our  seats  in 
the  rustic  omnibuses,  and  start  away,  sing 
ing  and  laughing,  for  a  long  day's  pleasure. 

Mr.  Alcott   was   too  much   engaged   in 

34 


"BRICK  ENDS." 
From  a  photograph  by  J.  C.  L.  Clark. 


[  shall  wash  from  iny  face  every  cloud-colonrcd  stair. 

Ked,  red  shall,  ft  Ion:.1,  on  ray  visage  remain! 

I  will  dig  up  my  hatchet,  and  beud  my  oak  bov,  ; 

By  night  and  by  day  /  wi!l  follow  the  foe; 

Nor  lakes  shall  imp»-di-  rne,  nor  mountains,  nor  snows; — 

His  blood  can,  alone,  ,jriv»  my  spirit  repose. 

"They  came  to  my  cabin,  when  heaven  was  black; 
I  heard  not  their  coming.  I  knew  not  their  track; 
But  I  saw,  by  the  light  of  their  blazing  fusees, 
They  were  people  engendered  beyond  the  big  seas : 
My  wife,  and  my  children, — oh  spare  7ue  the  tale! 
For  who  is  there  left  that  is  kin  to  GEEHALK?  " 

It  was  all  su  wonderful  to  us  little  cues ; 
and  1  well  remember  how  the  next  day  w«- 
looked  to  see  if  any  remnant  of  the  paint 
was  left  on  Louisa's  pretty  rie^k  and  arms. 

Miss  Louisa  Chase,  who  taught  the* vil 
lage  school  that  summer,  was  fairly  en 
shrined  in  the  hearts  of  her  pupils;  ami  the 
rides  and  picnics  in  which  Miss  Chase  and 
Mrs.  Alcott  watched  over,  and  shared  in, 
thf  happiness  of  the  little  people  I  shall 
iicv:.T  forget.  Hay-carts  would  be  provided 
with  seats  and  trimmed  with  evergreen;  and 
carefully  stowing  away  our  luncheon -bask 
ets,  wv  -.-lie  by  one  would  take  our  seats  in 

the  rustic  omnibuses,  and  start  away,  sing- 

".afitia  xojaa-,       -. 

\tMPfi  &.iWttrfiyW 

Mr.  Alcott    v\as 


philosophising  and  gardening  to  share  in 
such  merry-makings;  but  a  lady,  who  was 
in  those  days  one  of  the  Still  River  school 
girls,  tells  me  of  one  occasion  when  he  did 
attend  a  picnic  at  the  school -house.  I  have 
an  impression  that  it  was  held  on  the  Fourth 
of  July,  and  very  likely  Mr.  Alcott  had  been 
asked  to  speak.  One  can  well  believe  that 
the  doughnuts,  cold  meat,  pickles,  cakes,  and 
pies,  usually  served  on  such  occasions,  were 
little  to  his  taste ;  and,  indeed,  when  there 
were  passed  to  him  some  delicate  cookies, 
contributed  by  the  minister's  wife,  by  whose 
side,  unfortunately,  he  was  sitting,  the  phi 
losopher  declined  them  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand,  and  the  words,  "Vanity,  and  worse 
than  vanity ! ' ' 

Of  the  merry  Alcott  group  and  their  inti 
mates,  Louisa  was  the  ring -leader  when 
ever  and  wherever  there  was  a  chance  to 
"have  some  fun."  She  often,  as  she  says, 
"got  mad;"  but  her  anger  went  as  quickly 
as  it  came.  Still  she  could  be  severe.  One 
day  the  neighbours  were  astonished  to  see  a 
chair  suspended  from  one  of  the  "Brick 
Ends"  windows.  It  appeared  that  Louisa, 

35 


while  "cleaning  house"  with  great  energy, 
had  "bumped"  herself  against  a  chair, 
whereupon  that  devoted  article  of  furniture 
was  arraigned,  found  guilty,  and  immedi 
ately  hanged ! 

Another  tale  is  related  by  the  school 
mate  who  was  Louisa's  most  intimate  Still 
River  friend.  Calling  at  the  Alcott's  one 
day,  she  found  Louisa  in  a  little  hall  cham 
ber,  where  she  had  been  sentenced  to  re 
main  till  she  was  sorry  for  speaking  disre 
spectfully  to  her  mother;  at  present,  she 
was  not  sorry.  She  confided  to  her  friend, 
who  remarked  a  peculiar  odour,  that,  as  she 
must  stay  there,  she  had  thought  it  a  good 
time  to  oil  her  hah',  which  she  had  been 
doing,  most  lavishly,  with  some  of  poor 
Mrs.  Alcott's  whale-oil!  A  recollection 
caused  the  prisoner  shortly  to  declare  she 
could  stay  indoors  no  longer.  Deaf  to  her 
visitor's  remonstrances,  she  explained  that 
the  day  before  she  had  accidentally  killed  a 
spider  in  the  pasture,  and  must  needs  go 
and  look  at  his  monument,  which  she  had 
erected.  So  the  two  little  girls  crept  softly 
down  stairs  and  out  through  the  garden, 


successfully  avoiding  the  notice  of  Mr.  Al- 
cott,  who  was  busy  hoeing.  The  monument 
proved  to  be  a  shingle  fixed  in  the  ground, 
bearing  an  epitaph  appropriate  to  the  un 
fortunate  spider .  *  All  this  seems  very  much 
like  a  chapter  from  one  of  Miss  Alcott's 
stories. 

Well  do  I  remember  my  childish  distress 
over  an  incident  at  school.  Miss  Chase, 
doubtless  weary  of  the  mending  of  some 
forty  quills,  had  gladly  welcomed  the  inno 
vation  of  steel  pens.  I  was  very  proud  of 
the  one  she  had  given  me;  but  one  day, 
alas !  Louisa  in  a  spirit  of  mischief  seized 
the  quill -handle  into  which  my  pen  was 
fitted,  and  threw  it  into  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  spoiling  the  point,  and  filling  my  little 
heart  with  pain.  A  pleasanter  recollection 
is  of  the  first  banana  I  ever  tasted,  one 
which  Lizzie  Alcott  shared  with  me,  and 
which  I  remember  she  called  "bread  fruit." 

*  The  same  friend  tells  me  that  a  certain  large  rock  on  the 
border  of  lovely  Bear  Hill  Pond  was  named  by  Louisa  "  Spider- 
land,"  and  that  from  this  favourite  resort  she  used  to  write  notes 
to  her  friends.  Her  evident  regard  for  these  creepy  insects — are 
they,  indeed,  insects? — reminds  one  of  George  Macdonald's  story 
of  "The  Giant's  Heart." 

37 


Sweet,  clever  Anna  Alcott — "Meg" — 
used  to  write  little  stories  in  a  blank  book ; 
and  I  can  fancy  myself  now  walking  very 
slowly  home  from  school,  along  the  broad 
green  sidewalk  between  the  corner  and  Mr. 
Orasmus  Willard's,  with  my  dear  playmates, 
Lizzie  Alcott  and  Helen  Lovejoy,  while 
Anna  read  to  us  what  seemed  very  wonder 
ful  tales. 

Taught  that  the  eating  of  meat  was 
wrong,  the  Alcott  children  looked,  of  course, 
upon  any  form  of  butchering  as  a  veritable 
crime,  and  many  were  the  spirited  debates 
which  Lizzie  and  I  had  on  the  subject. 
Fruits,  grains,  and  vegetables  made  up  the 
sum  of  their  home  diet ;  but,  like  some  of 
the  older  Fruitlanders,  they  were  not  averse 
from  sharing  more  varied  food,  provided  at 
picnics  and  other  rural  festivities.  Kind 
friends  and  relatives,  as  I  have  mentioned, 
sent  them,  besides  baskets  of  fruit,  many 
articles  of  clothing ;  and  it  would  seem  as  if 
this  brief,  bright  summer  must  have  been  a 
welcome  relief  to  Mrs.  Alcott  from  the  toil 
and  care  with  which  she  had  been  burdened 
at  Fruitlaiids. 

38 


V 


\ 

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V3 

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5 

X 

\ 

& 

\ 

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£ 

r>x 
4 

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£ 

5k. 

H 

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uLc/   -^txvc.  ^»£t-- 


ii- 


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st'~ 


y 


An  anecdote  of  Mrs.  Alcott's  Still  River 
life  well  illustrates  her  generous  nature.  In 
the  same  village  was  a  lady  of  ample  means, 
and  possessing  true  refinement,  who  paid 
little  or  no  attention  to  prevailing  styles. 
While  of  excellent  materials,  her  clothes 
were,  indeed,  far  enough  from  the  fashion. 
Among  a  quantity  of  garments  sent  to  Mrs. 
Alcott  by  friends  were  several  bonnets,  and 
great  was  Mrs. 's  good-humoured  aston 
ishment  when  Mrs.  Alcott,  in  the  most  del 
icate  manner,  offered  one  of  them  to  her! 
Although  the  bonnet  was  not  accepted,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  these  two  good  women 
were  drawn  closer  by  an  incident  which,  if 
shared  by  less  noble  characters,  might  have 
ended  unhappily. 

We  were  all  very  sorry  when  our  beloved 
playmates  went  back  to  Concord.  Once,  not 
many  years  later,  Louisa  was  so  anxious  to 
see  Still  River  again  that  she  walked  from 
Concord  to  visit  the  Gardners .  She  often 
thought  of  the  summer  spent  in  Still  River, 
as  is  shown  by  the  use  in  her  stories  of  the 
names  of  people  she  had  known  there,  and 
by  some  of  her  letters.  In  one  here  repro- 

39 


duced,  which  was  written  to  me  more  than 
thirty  years  ago,  she  speaks  of  the  "old  Still 
River  days"  as  "jolly  times,"  and  describes 
a  mock  wedding  in  the  woodshed,  in  which 
she  took  the  part  of  bride.  The  friend  I 
have  referred  to  so  often,  Sophia  (Gardner) 
Wyinan,  says  that  this  ceremony  was  con 
ducted  after  the  gipsy  manner,  the  bride 
and  groom  jumping  together  over  a  broom 
stick  which  was  held  by  S.  and  another 
playmate. 

The  second  letter  which  I  give  in  f ac  - 
simile,  written  fifteen  years  later,  expresses 
kindly  approbation  of  a  Wide  Awake  story  of 
mine  relating  to  "Beth's"  birthday  party, 
and  alludes  to  the  happy  days  spent  at  Still 
River.  These  two  letters  show  the  great 
change  which  took  place  in  Miss  Alcott's 
handwriting,  the  result,  I  believe,  of  writ 
er's  cramp. 

Another  letter,  which  Mrs.  Wyman  has 
kindly  allowed  me  to  copy,  was  written  the 
year  after  the  Alcotts'  removal  from  Still 
River.  It  evidently  refers  in  part  to  the 
return  from  a  visit  to  the  Gardners,  on 
which  occasion  Anna  very  likely  accompa- 

40 


fc-  > 

>« 


^ 


^ 


AA- 

r 

w 

^L              M     L 

j^—/^-^-^     ^--           /      J     X 

•^ 

i 

>^ 

a 

m 

X. 

V  ^' 

> 

>           ^               ^ 

-5  _ 

Ex_jijrV 

->^^ 

L^ 

Xs?           \ 

—  *f-*r^\ 

a     ^ 

-  i_ 

-^  „ 

S 

^SL^-A. 

Oo          ^ 

KvX—          ^v 

-v 

s 

w 

\ 

vs 

o-3l3^_^-        x^_        \^T^_       ->><3r-^v^ 

Dswnng  ann  sin^ng  nse  crany  TOIKS.     resiernay  we  wenx  o 

41 


V* 


Cll       UUCaaJA-Hl     -LJL. 


40 


8^. 


nawnng  ana  singing  IIKC  crazy  IOIKS.     I'esteraay  we  went  ove 

41 


Ixxm    Tj^vcioj-v^ 


nied  Louisa.  The  "P.  S."  and  "N.  B."  re 
mind  one  of  Tommy  Bangs 's  letter  to  his 
grandmother  in  "Little  Men."  I  have  fol 
lowed  the  original  verbatim  et  litteratim,  but 
not  quite  punctuatim. 

"CONCORD,  Tuesday,  23[d]. 
".Dear  Sophia: 

"I  bad  nothing  to  do,  so  I  thought  I  would  scribble  a 
few  lines  to  my  dear  Fire,  as  Abby  still  calls  you.     I  have  just 

written  a  long  letter  to  L all  myself,  for  mother  is  too  buisy 

and  Anna  to[o]  lazy.     I  snpose  M will  schold  if  I  call  Anna 

lazy,  but  she  is  to[o]  lazy  to  do  any  thing  but  drum  on  the 
Seraphine  till  we  are  all  stuned  with  her  noise.  I  need  not  tell 
you  we  are  all  alive  and  kicking,  most  of  our  family,  that  is; 

Miss  F and  S are  going  away,  so  I  shan't  have  to  be 

fussed  any  more  with  them,  for  Miss  F is  particular  and 

S is  cross.     I  have  not  forgotten  the  ten  matches  we  lit  on 

a  certain  night,  and  my  head  and  bones  still  shake  after  the  beat 
ing  they  got  when  I  was  at  Harvard.  O,  if  you  had  only  been 
with  us  when  we  came  home! — a  stage  full  of  bawling  babies 
and  nervious  marms  to  take  care  of  the  little  dears.  I  had  to  be 
perched  on  top  of  the  stage,  and  pitched  up  and  down  like  butter 
in  a  churn.  I  had  a  beautiful  walk  the  other  day  with  my  gov 
erness  and  the  children  to  a  pond  called  Finch  pond,  there  we 
found  lots  of  grape[e]s  and  some  lovely  flowers ;  and  now,  if 
you  won't  laugh,  I'll  tell  you  something — if  you  will  believe  it, 

Miss  F and  all  of  us  waded  across  it,  a  great  big  pond  a 

mile  long  and  half  a  mile  wide,  we  went  splashing  along  making 
the  fishes  run  like  mad  before  our  big  claws,  when  we  got  to 
the  other  side  we  had  a  funny  time  getting  on  our  shoes  and  un 
mentionables,  and  we  came  tumbling  home  all  wet  and  muddy ; 
but  we  were  happy  enough,  for  we  came  through  the  woods 
bawling  and  singing  like  crazy  folks.  Yesterday  we  went  over 

41 


a  little  way  from  our  house  into  some  great  big  fields  full  of 
apple-trees,  which  we  climed,  tearing  our  clothes  off  our  backs 
(luckly  they  were  old)  and  breaking  our  bones  [!].  playing  tag 
and  all  sorts  of  strange  things.  We  are  dreadfull  wild  people 
here  in  Concord,  we  do  all  the  sinful  things  you  can  think  of.  I 
have  got  some  hous[e]  plants;  one  of  them  is  called  a  Crab 
Cactus,  the  flower  looks  like  a  toad  and  the  leaves  look  as  if  they 
were  joined  together  by  a  very  fine  thread.  The  folks  were  very 
much  pleased  with  my  fruit,  but  the  grapes  were  crushed  some 
in  tumbling  in  and  out  of  the  cars.*  I  have  been  pressing  col 
oured  leaves,  they  look  very  pretty  when  they  are  arranged 
prettly  on  white  paper.  I  go  to  school  every  day  to  Mr.  Lane,  but 
do  not  have  half  so  good  a  time  as  I  did  at  Miss  Chase's  school ; 
the  summer  I  went  there  was  the  happiest  summer  I  ever  spent 
in  the  country,  there  was  such  a  lot  of  jolly  girls  to  play  and 
blab  with,  and  we  used  to  have  such  good  times — though  we 
did  used  to  get  mad  now  and  then,  it  did  not  last  long.  I  went 
to  court  and  heard  William  Whyman  acquitted.  I  hopped  right 
up  out  of  my  seat  when  the  foreman  said  Not  Guilty.  Poor  Mr. 
Whyman !  he  cried  right  out,  he  was  so  glad ;  his  trial  has  lasted 
three  years  and  the  poor  man's  hair  has  turned  gray,  though  it 
was  black  at  first,  they  have  plagued  him  so.f  What  a  silly  fool 
I  am  to  be  talking  to  you  about  things  you  do  not  care  about 
hearing,  so  I  will  stop.  I  shall  make  you  a  visit  next  summer, 
if  you  will  not  come  down  and  see  me.  Mother  said  she  would 
pay  the  postage,  so  I  will  scribble  with  all  my  might.  Our  gar 
den  looks  dreadful  shabby,  for  Father  has  been  gone  to  New 
York  for  a  long  time  and  Mr.  Lane  does  not  under  stand  garden 
ing  very  well.  I  must  say  good  by  now,  for  I  must  go  and  prac- 


*  The  little  girls  no  doubt  went  by  stage  as  far  as  Littleton,  continuing 
their  journey  to  Concord  by  the  then  new  and  wonderful  Fitchburg  Railroad. 

t  The  case  against  William  Wyman  for  embezzlement  grew  out  of  the 
failure  in  184'-'  of  the  Phcenix  Bank  of  Charlestown,  of  which  Wyman  was 
president.  He  would  appear  to  have  been  acquitted  of  a  portion  of  the  charges 
against  him  before  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  at  Concord  in  June,  1845.  The 
case  was  finally  "non  pressed"  at  Cambridge  the  following  February. 

42 


MABM  WEBBER'S  COTTAGE. 
From  a  photograph  by  J.  C.  L.  Clark. 


a  little  way  from  our  house  into  some  great  big  fields  full  of 
apple-trees,  which  we  ciimed,  tearing  oar  clothes  <>lt'  our  hacks 
(luckly  they  wore  old)  and  breaking  our  bones  j~  !~i,  playing  lug 
and  all  sorts  of  strange  tilings.  We  are  dreadful]  wild  peoplo 
here  in  Concord,  we  do  all  the  .sinful  things  you  can  think  of.  1 
have  got  some  hous[ej  plants;  one  of  them  is  e.alk:d  a  Crab 
Cactus,  the  flower  looks  like  a  toad  and  the  leaves  look  as  if  they 
were  joined  together  by  a  very  tine  thread.  The  folks  were  very 
much  pleased  with  my  fruit,  but  the  grapes  were  crushed  some 
in  tumbling  in  and  out  of  the  ears.*  1  have  been  pressing  col 
oured  leaves,  the}'  look  very  pretty  when  they  are  arranged 
prettiy  on  white  paper.  \  go  to  school  every  day  to  Mr.  Lane,  but 
do  not  have  half  so  good  a  time  as  I  did  at.  Miss  Chad's  <diool; 
the  summer  I  went  there  was  the  happiest  summer  I  e\<.-r  spent 
in  the  country,  there  was  such  a  lot  of  jolly  girls  to  play  and 
blab  with,  and  we  used  to  have  such  good  times — though  \v 
did  used  to  get  mad  no\\  and  then,  il  JK1  not  la*t  long  I  \\cnt 
to  court  and  heard  William  Why  man  acquitted.  I  hopped  right 
up  out  of  my  seat  when  the  foreman  said  Nut  Gu:;ty.  Poor  M>. 
Whyman!  he  cried  right  out,  lie  was  so  ;.>lad  ;  hi.-  trial  h«s  lasted 
three  years  and  the  poor  man's  hair  has  turned  gray,  though  it 
was  black  at  first,  they  have  plagued  hh.i  M>.i  What  a  hilly  fool 
j  am  to  be  talking  to  you  about,  things  you  do  r,ol,  cure  aSout 
hearing,  so  I  will  stop.  I  shall  niitke  you  a  visit  nevl  ^tnnnirr, 
il'  you  will  not  come  down  and  see  me.  Mother  said  slu  \vould 
pay  the  postage,  so  I  will  scribble  with  all  my  might.  Out  :rur- 
den  looks  dreadful  shabby,  for  .Father  has  been  gone  to  'New 
York  for  a  long  time  and  Mr  Laue  does  not  under  stand  garden 
ing  very  well.  I  must  say  good  by  now,  for  I.  nwst  go  and  prac- 


*The  litt'u-  girls  no  doubt  went  by  stage  as  lar  AS  Littleton,  continuing 
their  journey  to  Concord  by  the  then  iv.w  and  %vonderful  I'itcl.-burg  Railroad. 

*  The  case  against  Wiiliara  Wyrnan  f.T  embezzlement  grew  rut  c>f  the 
f/uiure  in  1*1.'  of  the  t'h^nix  Hank  oi  Liiarlestown,  uf  which  \Vyrrr:vL  %v«s 

e  would  ap.-.-^otAaxroo.  -afaflaaaw^fttaAJflon  of  the 

'•  ^itt-ikld  .'J'ityil ':^rf  rf<j*T^O*Oifq'  J»  :riiol'?'  " 
cas<;  was  finally  ''non  prosed"  :«t  Camurids^e  t!i:  id'k.wiK^  Fvbru.iry. 

4'.' 


tise  for  an  hour,  farewell.     Mother  sends  her  love  to  all  the  dear 

folks,  and  Anny  lots  to  G ;  by,  by,  dear  childer, 

"the lord  [st'c]  bless  you, 

u  from  your  affectionate 

"friend  LOUISA. 

"  P.  S.     If  you  and  M will  come  down  and  see  us,  I  will 

light  ten  matches  for  you,  and  you  shall  have  a  nice  big  room — 
if  you  will  only  come  without  delay,  for  our  lives  depend  upon 
it,  so  come  with  the  greatest  possible  despatch ;  bring  little 

P two  [too]  for  Abby ;  my  respects  to  Walter,  and  tell  him 

my  finger  is  better  and  I  hope  his  is  too ;  hope  A is  better, 

tell  her  to  get  well  as  fast  as  she  can  and  come  with  you ;  I  hope 
Betty  G.  won't  turn  her  nose  up  at  me  the  next  time  I  come,  for 
it  most  broke  my  heart,  it  was  so  affecting;  good  by,  L.  M.  A. 
"  N.  B.     Now  I  have  written  you  a  long  letter,  and  you  must 

answer  it,  M must  not  write  a  word  in  it,  must  be  all  for 

me.*  I  pray  and  beg  you  will  not  show  this  to  any  body  and 
[willj  excuse  all  mistakes,  for  I  am  in  a  hurry;  did  you  ever  see 
the  time  when  I  was  not? 

"L.  M.  A. 
"  I  won't  say  any  more  now,  my  dear  S." 

To  one  who  knows  the  destitute  circum 
stances  of  the  Alcott  family  at  this  period, 
the  little  Louisa's  somewhat  airy  references 
to  summers  in  the  country  and  "my  govern 
ess"  may  afford  innocent  mirth. 

In  the  chapter  of  "Little  Men"  where 
Dan  tells  the  story  of  "Marm  Webber," 


*  That  is  to  say,  if  Margaret  wrote,  it  would  be  to  Anna.  The  little  Al- 
cotts'  intimacies  were,  like  most  children's,  formed  through  similarity  of  age: 
Margaret  Gardner  "went  with''  Anna  Alcott;  Sophy  Gardner  with  Louisa;  to 
Helen  Lovejoy  and  me  Lizzie  was  our  dearest  friend;  and  Louisa  conjures 
Sophy  to  bring  Polly  for  little  Abba  May. 


Miss  Alcott  was  portraying  a  Still  River 
character.  On  the  slope  of  Prospect  Hill 
there  actually  lived  a  Mrs.  Webber,  whose 
house  was  a  hospital  for  homeless  and  un 
fortunate  cats.  Whatever  were  the  old 
dame's  faults  of  temper,  she  was  a  true 
friend  to  her  feline  pets,  although  her  put 
ting  the  hopeless  invalids  out  of  their  misery 
with  ether  is  a  touch  of  Miss  Alcott 's  fancy, 
since,  I  believe,  that  anaesthetic  had  not 
been  invented  in  the  real  Marm  Webber's 
time. 

I  well  remember  how  great  was  the  in 
terest  felt  by  old  Still  River  schoolmates 
when,  in  the  Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  arti 
cles  began  to  appear  written  by  the  merry 
girl  who  had  left  so  strong  an  impression  on 
our  minds.  Right  proud  were  we  when 
"Little  Women"  followed  the  pathetic  pages 
of  "Hospital  Sketches;"  and  loyal  hearts 
rejoiced  in  each  later  success,  and  mourned 
when  the  life  lived  so  faithfully  for  others 
ended  so  early. 


of  W.  J.  Coulter,  Clinton,  Ma 


9 


9Q 
>& «_» 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000676176     1 


